A Special Friendship
by SlytherinSpider
Summary: A lonely child is locked outside on Christmas Eve. When a boy wizard meets a winter spirit, a friendship unlike any other will form. Will Harry Potter continue to believe in Jack Frost, or is their friendship not designed to withstand the test of time?
1. First Meeting

Harry Potter was cold. It was Christmas Eve, and he was locked outside of the house, as usual. He knew the Dursleys, his only living relatives, hated him, but did they really have to lock him outside of the house every Christmas so he didn't infect them with his _freakishness_?

Harry sighed and shivered, bringing his arms closer to his chest for warmth. He was only four years old, and he had already given up belief in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. Why? He never received any Christmas presents; _freaks don't deserve gifts_. He was never allowed to participate in egg hunts on Easter; _freaks don't deserve treats_. He never received a 50 pence coin for a lost tooth; _freaks don't deserve money_. The cruel words of his aunt and uncle echoed in his head. Harry shivered again, remembering what Aunt Petunia had told his cousin, Dudley, the day before.

 _"Bundle up, Dudders, it's a cold day! You don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose!"_

 _"Who's Jack Frost, Mummy?" Dudley asked._

 _"Oh, honey, Jack Frost isn't a real person. That's just an expression!" Aunt Petunia laughed._

 _"But Santa's real, right? And he'll bring lots and lots of presents for me, right?"_

 _"Of course, Dudders! You've been such a good boy all year long; of course Santa is going to bring you lots of presents. Now, have fun playing; don't leave the front yard!"_

 _"Yes, Mummy."_

Harry was jolted back to the present when a gust of cold wind hit him. He looked up at the sky to see snowflakes starting to gently float down to earth.

"I know Santa's not real, 'cause if he were, he'd bring presents to everyone. And the Easter Bunny's not real, 'cause if he were, he'd give eggs to everyone. And the Tooth Fairy's not real, 'cause if she were, she'd take care of everyone's teeth. But snow comes to everyone…so Jack Frost must be real. He _must_ be. He takes care of everyone…" Harry whispered to the wind.

"He said…You said…You believe in Jack Frost…You believe in _me_ ," a disbelieving voice came from behind Harry.

Harry yelped and turned around to see a white-haired teen clutching a wooden staff. Harry's eyes widened. "Jack Frost?" he whispered.

The teen's jaw dropped. "You…You see me? You _hear_ me?"

Harry nodded.

The teen, Jack Frost, let out a joyful laugh and did a backflip. "You see me! No one's ever seen me before, aside from the other immortals, I mean. But _you_ see me!"

"Why wouldn't I see you?" Harry asked, confused.

"Only people who believe in me can see me," Jack Frost explained. "I don't know why, but that's how it is for the other immortals, too."

"What other immortals?"

"You know, the Sandman –"

"Who's that?" Harry interrupted.

"You haven't heard of the Sandman?" Jack Frost asked, amazed. When Harry shook his head, Jack explained, "He's the Guardian that brings good dreams to all the children of the world with his Dreamsand. That's why he's called the Sandman. Well, and there's the fact that he's made of actual sand…" Jack trailed off.

"He sounds nice," Harry said. "I get good dreams sometimes. I'll believe in him, too, now. But what did you mean, Guardian?"

"You're pretty sharp, kiddo, for remembering that. How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm four, Mister Frost," Harry said.

"Hey, none of that, just call me Jack. What's your name?" Jack grinned.

"Harry."

"Good name, Harry. Well, the Guardians are the protectors of childhood. The Sandman's all right, but the others are kind of stuck-up. They're Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy."

Harry stared at Jack. "But they don't exist."

Jack blinked. "Wait…you believe in me, but you don't believe in Santa?"

"Why should I? He's never brought me anything. None of them have. If they're protectors, they don't do a very good job." Harry crossed his arms. Then he shivered again.

Jack was at a loss. He sat down beside Harry, removing his brown cloak and draping it over the child's shoulders. "Listen, Snowflake…I don't know what's happened, but it seems like the Guardians have somehow overlooked you. Except the Sandman, but he's always been the cleverest of the bunch. But the Guardians do exist."

"So…they're all real, but they all forgot about me, except for the Sandman?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"I can try to talk to them about it," Jack offered. "They don't like me much, but I can –"

"No," Harry said softly. "It wouldn't be the same. If they have to be _told_ about me…then they'll bring things because they have to, not because they want to. Thank you anyway, Jack."

Jack wrapped an arm around the small child beside him. "You're pretty wise and well-spoken for a four year old, Snowflake," he said.

"Snowflake?" Harry asked.

"Well, yeah," Jack said, a faint blue blush creeping into his cheeks. "I mean, you're small, and unique, and we're sitting in the snow…"

"I like it," Harry told him. "No one's ever given me a nickname before. Well, except for the Dursleys, but I don't think 'Freak' counts."

"What do you mean, 'Freak?' And who are the Dursleys?" Jack asked, concerned.

"They're my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley. I live with them, but they don't like me," Harry explained. "Uncle Vernon says I'm a freak and a waste of space, and that's why I don't deserve nice things."

Jack looked angry. "Do they hit you?" he asked seriously.

"No. They just lock me in my cupboard if I do something freakish. I don't mind, though. I like the dark, and the spiders are friendly."

"Snowflake, that's not normal. No one should lock you in a cupboard," Jack said, hugging the child closer.

"I don't mind," Harry repeated. "It's better than an orphanage."

"But…they locked you outside! On _Christmas Eve_!" Jack spluttered.

"It's okay. They did it last year, too. It's not as if they'll give me any presents."

"Well, _I'm_ going to give you a present," Jack declared strongly. He wrapped the brown cloak more securely around Harry's shoulders. "This cloak, it's yours now. And since it's coming from me, no one will be able to see it or feel it –"

"–So the Dursleys won't be able to take it away," Harry finished in awe. "Are you sure, Jack? Won't you get cold without it?"

"Nah," Jack laughed, ruffling Harry's already-messy hair. "I'm a winter spirit; I don't get cold. See," he said, wiggling his toes, "I don't even wear shoes!"

"Well, thank you," Harry said, cuddling further into the cloak. "It's nice to get a present. I don't have anything for you, though," he realized, looking devastated.

"You've already given me the greatest present I could ever get," Jack reassured the boy. "You're the first person to see me in almost three hundred years. That itself is a present to last a lifetime."

The smile on Harry's face that followed that declaration was blinding. "Does that make us friends?" he asked.

"You bet it does, Snowflake," Jack said, returning Harry's smile.

"I've never had a friend before," Harry confessed softly.

"Neither have I," Jack told him. "All the other immortals hate me. But that's probably because I like to have snowball fights and make frost patterns, and they're all stuck-ups who stick to a schedule. No sense of fun at all."

Harry giggled. "That sounds like Aunt Petunia. She doesn't have a sense of fun, either."

Jack grinned mischievously. "Is she stuck-up?"

"Yes!" Harry proclaimed, and they both dissolved into laughter.

Just then, the door to 4 Privet Drive opened, and a large, beefy man was silhouetted in the doorway. Harry stopped laughing immediately.

"All right, boy, you can come back inside," Uncle Vernon called. "It's straight to the cupboard with you, and don't get any clever ideas about sneaking out and stealing presents."

Harry hung his head and stood up, pulling the cloak tightly around his shoulders. "I have to go now. Goodbye, Jack," he whispered, knowing he couldn't give the winter spirit a hug without his uncle getting suspicious.

Jack has no such problem, though, giving Harry a quick but tight hug. "Goodbye for now, Snowflake. Happy Christmas. I'll come visit as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay," Harry whispered, then trudged into the house. Uncle Vernon closed the door harshly behind him.

Jack stood in the yard for a moment, wishing there was something more he could do for his new friend. At last he looked to the sky.

"Take me away, Wind," he called, and was swept up into the air to spread winter to the rest of the world. He silently vowed to return to Privet Drive as soon as he had the chance. He wasn't going to abandon his Snowflake.


	2. In the Park

A few days after Christmas, Harry was at the local park. Aunt Petunia had banished him from the house again, deciding that since he wasn't doing anything to help out around the house, he didn't deserve to be inside the house at all. He had the cloak Jack had given him wrapped around his shoulders, so he didn't mind being out in the chilly winter air.

Harry wandered over to the swing set and sat down, half-heartedly swinging a little. Then he felt something cold sprinkling down into his hair. He looked up to see Jack Frost balanced on the swing set railing above his head, using his staff to send snowflakes dancing down onto Harry below.

"Jack! You came back!" Harry cried delightedly.

"Of course I came back, Snowflake. I promised I would, remember?" Jack grinned, jumping down to land in front of Harry.

Harry looked down. "I know you promised…but people always break promises."

"Hey, do I look like 'people' to you?" Jack asked, tilting Harry's chin up to look him in the eyes.

"…No?"

"That's right, Snowflake. And I'll _never_ break a promise to you."

Harry smiled, all worries forgotten.

"Now, then, do you want to play a game?" Jack asked mischievously.

"What game?" Harry asked excitedly.

"How about a snowball fight? Or building a snowman?"

"But Jack…there isn't enough snow for that," Harry said.

Jack pointed his staff at the sky, causing it to start snowing more heavily. "There will be soon," Jack promised. "And I guarantee this stuff will be perfect snowball snow."

"There's different types of snow?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Oh, sure," Jack verified. "There's the powdery stuff, there's the icy stuff, there's the blizzard stuff…don't give me that unimpressed look, Harry; I know what I'm doing. I'll have you know that 'stuff' is a very technical term!"

"What's 'unimpressed' and 'technical' mean?"

"Er…well, if you're unimpressed by something, it means that you don't find it very noteworthy, that it's a load of bollocks – No, hang on, don't repeat that word to anyone, Harry; it's a very bad word, and you should never use it. Moving on," Jack continued hurriedly, "the word 'technical' refers to the fancy, proper term for something, at least, it does in the way I used it. It could also refer to something related to technology, like a telephone or television…yeah." Jack ended his explanation rather awkwardly.

"Oh," Harry said. Then he asked, "What does 'bollocks' mean?"

Jack groaned. "No, no, forget it, Harry; pretend I never said it…And for the Moon's sake, _never_ repeat it to any adults. Oh, I'm such a horrible influence…"

Harry giggled at Jack's antics. "Okay, Jack."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Oh, look!" he exclaimed. "There's enough snow on the ground now. Want to make a snowman?"

"Sure!" Harry agreed.

The pair of friends began to roll spheres of snow. Jack explained to Harry how to pack the snow into sturdy balls, as Harry had never built a snowman before. Soon, thanks to Jack's abilities to manipulate snow, they had succeeded in building a two-metre tall snowman. Jack lifted Harry up to add stones to make the snowman's face.

"That's fantastic!" Jack exclaimed, gently placing Harry back on the ground and ruffling his hair. "You've really got some artistic talent, Snowflake."

"It really does look good, doesn't it?" Harry whispered in awe, admiring the snowman.

"You bet it does," Jack agreed. "We make a good team."

"Yeah!" Harry agreed enthusiastically. Then he became more subdued. "Jack…why do you like me so much? And play with me? Everyone thinks I'm a freak. Do you only talk to me because I'm the only one who can see you?"

Jack knelt in front of Harry. "Listen, Snowflake…you are _not_ a freak. Never, _ever_ think that, okay? I talk to you because you're a great kid, and because you're my friend. Sure, our friendship may have started because you can see me, but I stick around because I genuinely like you, kiddo. I've seen plenty of kids on my travels around the world. Even though they can't see me, I still interact with them. And none of them hold a candle to you, Snowflake. Okay?"

Harry nodded, reassured. "Okay...but what does 'genuinely' mean?"

Jack smiled sheepishly. "I keep forgetting you're only four years old. It means that I honestly like you, that I'm not lying about liking you. Does that make sense?"

"Uh huh," Harry grinned.

"Good," Jack said, ruffling Harry's hair. He seemed to enjoy doing that.

Harry looked at the slowly darkening sky. "I should go back to the Dursleys before it gets too dark. I might get in trouble if I don't. I don't _want_ to go, though, Jack." Harry frowned sadly.

Jack also looked sorrowful. "I wish I could take you away from there, Snowflake. But I don't have a proper house, and I wouldn't be able to feed you, since I don't need to eat. I'll walk you back to your relatives' house, though. And I'll have Sandy – the Sandman – keep an eye on you."

"Thanks, Jack," Harry said, as the pair trudged back towards Privet Drive. "I'm glad you really are my friend."

"Me too, Snowflake."

As they reached the front yard of 4 Privet Drive, Jack leaned down to give Harry a tight embrace. "I'll visit again soon, Snowflake," he promised. "If you see any golden sand floating around at night, that's the Sandman's Dreamsand. Just give it a tug to get his attention if you want to talk to him. He doesn't talk out loud though; he just uses symbols made of sand to communicate. But you're clever. You'll know what he's saying."

"Okay," Harry said. "Thank you, Jack."

Jack ruffled Harry's hair one last time before Harry turned to enter the house. "Good luck, Snowflake. Until next time."

Harry turned to give Jack a faint smile. "Until next time," he echoed.

Then he entered the house, leaving Jack standing barefoot in the snow. Jack looked to the sky and called for the Wind to take him away.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered as the Wind carried him into the night.


	3. The Sandman

Jack was perched in a tree in Burgess, Pennsylvania. The tree was beside the lake from which he had been born around three hundred years ago. He still didn't know why he had been born from the lake, since the Moon hadn't bothered to tell him anything more than his name: Jack Frost. Still, whenever he finished his travels around the world, he always came back to the lake.

Jack looked up at the darkening sky, hoping to catch sight of the Sandman's golden Dreamsand. He hadn't spoken to the Sandman before, but he _had_ seen the small man spreading dreams throughout the world. He knew that the man cared about children and wanted to see them happy. He _didn't_ know how the man had missed the fact that Harry Potter was neglected by the other Guardians. Wasn't there some kind of monitoring system?

A flash of sand descending from the sky interrupted Jack's musing. The winter spirit looked up to see shimmering golden tendrils extending from the arms and body of a small man. The Wind lifted Jack up to the Sandman before he could lose his nerve in wanting to speak to the other immortal. The Wind dumped Jack unceremoniously on the Sandman's golden cloud.

"Er…hello?" Jack squeaked.

The Sandman looked at the winter spirit sprawled awkwardly at his feet. He formed a question mark out of sand over his head, as if to inquire, _Who are you and why did you just fall down?_

Jack, never having met the dream-giving immortal, had to try to interpret the symbol the best he could.

"Ah, I'm Jack Frost; I'm a bringer of winter and frost…Look, I know we've never met officially before but I've seen some of your work and how you interact with kids, and well, I need your help," Jack babbled.

The Sandman raised an eyebrow and gestured for Jack to explain more.

"Well, there's this little boy, Harry, over in the UK, and he's the sweetest little four-year-old I've ever seen. The thing is, he's not treated well by his relatives. And somehow, all of the Guardians have overlooked him in their duties. Except for you…Harry says that he sometimes gets good dreams. But he doesn't believe in the Guardians; he didn't believe in _you_ until I told him about you. But he can see me, and he _believes_ in me…he's the only person who's ever seen me, aside from the Immortals, that is…but the Guardians _ignore_ him. They always have. And, well, I thought you might be able to help." Jack finished his rather long-winded explanation.

The Sandman made an expression of concern. He started rapidly flashing images of sand above his head, including a snowflake and an outline of the United Kingdom.

"Um, what? Sorry, I have no idea what you're trying to say." Jack said sheepishly. "Could you maybe, er, slow down a little?"

The Sandman slowed his images.

"Right, so…the snowflake image represents…me?"

The Sandman nodded.

"Huh, that's funny…that's the nickname I gave to Harry. Back on track," he said hastily when the Sandman gave him a _look_. "Er, a map…you want me to show you where Harry is? And then you'll try to help him?"

The Sandman made a thumbs-up sign of approval. Then he conjured an image of a pile of sand.

"Er…and sand?"

The Sandman made the sand swirl around.

Jack started guessing. "Sandstorm…sand dune…beach…sandy –"

The small man nodded vigorously and pointed to himself.

"You…want me to call you Sandy?" Jack guessed.

The newly dubbed Sandy grinned and nodded again.

"Er, great. You can call me Jack. Or, rather, use that snow symbol thingy to refer to me. Sorry. Is there a reason you don't talk?" Jack asked awkwardly.

Sandy formed sand into the image of a child sleeping, then pantomimed tiptoeing with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Ohh…you don't say anything so that you don't wake up the children," Jack realised.

Sandy formed a large check mark of approval above his head. Then he made a gesture that took Jack a moment to interpret.

"Oh, you want to go see Harry _now_? I guess that'll work; since it's about eight o'clock here, it'll be around midnight where Harry is. But I'm sure he'll be happy to see you regardless of what time it is. Ah, how fast can you travel?"

Instead of answering Jack, Sandy formed a large sand aeroplane around the two of them. The golden propellers began to spin, and the two immortals sped away in the direction of the United Kingdom.

"Whoa! Next stop, Little Whinging!" Jack cried in exhilaration.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **I'm really sorry it took so long to post this; things got quite hectic, and then I lost my muse. But things are better now, and the next chapter should come sooner (and it will be longer than this one). Thank you for sticking with this story!**


	4. In the Cupboard

_"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

 _"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…"_

 _"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!"_

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _A blinding flash of green light_ _–_

Harry woke up with a gasp. He didn't realise that his nightmare was, in fact, an early memory. All he knew was that it was frightening, and he wondered what the green light meant. He blinked in the darkness of his cupboard, idly brushing a spider off his arm when he felt a tickling sensation. He knew that his relatives would not care that he'd had a nightmare; rather, they would be glad he hadn't woken them up.

Just as Harry turned over to try to go back to sleep, he heard a soft voice in the hallway outside of his cupboard.

"He should be around here somewhere…He told me that his relatives keep him in the cupboard under the stairs."

Harry's heart leapt as he recognised Jack's voice. He sat up and peeked through a vent on the door. His eyes widened when he saw Jack and a small golden man in the hallway.

"The Sandman…he _is_ real," Harry whispered in awe.

"Harry? Was that you?" Jack asked, his sharp ears picking up the tiny whisper.

"I'm here," Harry whispered, slightly opening his cupboard door, glad that Uncle Vernon hadn't locked him in.

"Hey there, Snowflake," Jack said fondly, walking over to crouch in front of the boy.

"You came again," Harry said softly, still hardly believing that Jack was his friend. "And…and you brought…" he trailed off, staring past Jack at the little golden man.

"Harry, this is the Sandman. He says you can call him Sandy. Sandy, this is my friend Harry that I told you about," Jack introduced.

Sandy grinned and waved at Harry, conjuring a top hat and tipping it with a little bow.

Harry giggled. "Hi, Sandy," he murmured shyly.

"I know it's the middle of the night, Harry, but Sandy really wanted to meet you. I hope we didn't wake you up," Jack explained.

"You didn't. I had a bad dream that woke me up. I guess Sandy was busy and that's why it happened. That's okay, though," Harry said matter-of-factly.

Sandy made an _I'm sorry_ gesture and moved forward to hug Harry. Harry gave Sandy a small smile and hugged him back.

"I'm glad you came. Jack didn't know much about you, but he said that you're nice and that you don't talk," Harry told Sandy.

Sandy smiled. Then, he created a sand lightning bolt and pointed at Harry, who simply looked confused.

"Ah, I think that's Sandy's new symbol to use to refer to you," Jack attempted to clarify. "He uses a snow symbol to talk about me. But I guess since Snowflake is _my_ nickname for you, and since I'm a winter spirit who uses snow, Sandy wants to use a different symbol for you. Am I right, Sandy?" Jack asked, looking at the little man for confirmation.

Sandy gave a thumbs-up.

"So I'm Lightning because of my mark?" Harry asked, touching his scar and grinning. "Cool! Snow, Lightning, and Sandy! We can be a team!"

Jack and Sandy smiled at Harry's enthusiasm.

"Listen, Snowflake," Jack said, growing serious. "Aside from your bad dream, how have you been doing the past few days?"

"All right," Harry shrugged. "The cloak you gave me has been really warm! You…you don't want it back…do you?" Harry quavered, suddenly hesitant.

"No! That cloak was a present, Snowflake," Jack said, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "That means it's yours forever. I'm glad it's been helping you."

"Oh. Right." Harry relaxed.

"What I meant was, how have your relatives been treating you?" Jack specified.

"Okay, I guess. Dudley threw away some of his toy soldiers 'cause he broke them a little, so I nicked them out of the bin. Now I can play with them, so long as I keep them hidden in my cupboard. I can play 'Soldiers against Spiders.' But I don't _really_ hurt the spiders, 'cause they're my friends. Do you like spiders, Sandy?" Harry asked the little man.

In response, Sandy playfully conjured a sand spider and made it dance a jig. As the spider dissolved, Sandy nodded to say, _Yes, I like spiders._

Harry and Jack laughed at Sandy's antics. Inside, however, Jack was lamenting the fact that Harry had to resort to rummaging through the rubbish bin to get toys. A glance at Sandy confirmed that the golden immortal was thinking the same thing.

"So your relatives haven't been any more horrid than usual, is that what you're saying?" Jack tried to joke.

"They're not _that_ bad," the four-year-old muttered belligerently, unwilling (or unable) to realise the reality of his neglect. "They just like Dudley better than me, that's all."

Sandy frowned and formed a large heart in front of himself. Then he pointed to himself and Jack, and then at Harry. Harry's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What Sandy's saying," Jack explained gently, kneeling in front of Harry again, "is that _we_ love you, Snowflake. And we always will."

It took a moment for Harry to register what had been said. When it _did_ register, Harry had to blink back tears of happiness as he threw himself at both Jack and Sandy for a hug.

"Thank you," he sobbed.

Sandy patted Harry's back comfortingly as Jack ruffled the child's hair.

"We'll always be here for you, Snowflake," Jack whispered. "We're your friends."

Comforted by the thought that _he_ , who had always been told that he was a worthless freak, had actual _friends_ who _cared_ about him, Harry soon drifted off into sleep in the embrace of the two immortals. Jack gently shifted Harry to his thin mattress and covered him with his cloak and blanket. He pressed a light kiss to Harry's forehead and smoothed the boy's messy hair. Then he backed out of the cupboard, allowing Sandy access to the boy.

Sandy, though he had only just met the child, already felt protective of Harry. He softly touched a finger to the boy's forehead, releasing a small amount of Dreamsand to ensure Harry would have only good dreams for the rest of the night. Then he quietly closed the cupboard door, a small smile on his face as he saw how content Harry looked.

As the Guardian and the winter spirit left Privet Drive and parted ways, they both had the same thought running through their minds: _How can I best help Harry?_


	5. At the Pole

Sandy was thoughtful as he wandered through the sky. He had just met a remarkable little boy. He was amazed that the child had remained positive throughout the many hardships of his short life. As he sent his Dreamsand spiralling down to the earth below, he contemplated the fact that the child believed in Jack Frost, the mischievous winter spirit, but _not_ Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or the Tooth Fairy. It seemed impossible to the Guardian of Dreams that he and his fellow Guardians could have failed the child so badly, and he was determined to make amends.

Sandy looked up to see the Northern Lights: the call for the Guardians to meet at the North Pole. He raised his eyebrows in concern, wondering what could be wrong. Nicholas St. North, known as Santa Claus to the children of the world, never summoned the Guardians unless it was an emergency. He formed his golden aeroplane and flew off into the night.

When Sandy arrived in the North Pole, he was greeted by his colleagues.

"Sandy!" North boomed cheerfully. "Welcome to the workshop!"

Sandy looked at the large Russian man questioningly.

"I agree with Sandy," E. Aster Bunnymund agreed, his surly Australian accent shining through. "Why have you dragged us out here, North? Christmas is over, so you can't want last minute help. Is there some kind of crisis?"

"Ah, no." North looked sheepish.

"Then why?" Toothiana asked, her fairy assistants hovering around her head.

"Well, it's 1984. I just thought that we could get together and talk, without worrying about a crisis. We've known each other for centuries, but we've never simply sat and talked to each other." North grinned at his companions hopefully.

Bunny stared at North incredulously. "You mean to say…you've summoned us here…to _chat_? Mate, I don't have time for this. I have egg prototypes to design. Easter's only four months away!"

Tooth nodded. "I'm really busy, too, North. Kids never stop losing teeth, you know!"

Sandy looked at each of his colleagues. He formed a few rapid-fire sand figures above his head, as if to say, _Yes, our work is important, but we should be able to find time to talk to each other. We are a team, after all_.

The other Guardians stared at him blankly.

"Er…What?" North asked, the epitome of eloquence.

Sandy pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He had known the Guardians for centuries, but they _still_ couldn't communicate properly. Perhaps North's suggestion of chatting wasn't too far-fetched. He also felt slightly perturbed that even with the Guardians' dedication to their work, they had still managed to forget about Harry. However, Jack had informed Sandy that Harry did not want the other Guardians to be told about their neglect of the child. Therefore, Sandy simply rolled his eyes and used sand tendrils to drag the other Guardians to a table, forcing them to sit. He gave them a fierce glare, as if to say, _We will sit and talk, as North suggested. This is not up for debate._

The other Guardians were gobsmacked. Sandy, who was usually the most mild-mannered of the Guardians, had just manhandled all the others, who were all much larger than the golden man. Sandy looked pleased with himself.

"What's gotten into you, Sandy?" Bunny asked crossly.

Sandy scoffed silently. Apparently his actions were not clear enough. He mimed, _We are going to talk, like North suggested_. He pointed at the large Russian with emphasis.

"Very good, Sandy!" North boomed jovially. "We will chat, yes? What shall we discuss first?"

"Well, there was this one little girl who lost the most beautiful second molar a few days ago –"

Bunny interrupted Toothiana. "No tooth talk, _please_."

"Well, what do _you_ suggest?" she asked.

"I don't know! I think calling us all together to _chat_ is a ridiculous waste of time."

Sandy waved his arms to get the others' attention, then made several rapid-fire images above his head.

The other Guardians stared at him without comprehension.

Sandy rolled his eyes, and used sand to spell out, _Instead of talking about our work, perhaps we should try to get to know each other better? We've all been Guardians for several centuries now, but we hardly ever see each other. We'll be a better team if we know more about one other._

"But our duties don't overlap! What does it matter if I know your favourite cookie flavour or whether you want to vacation in Fiji?" Bunny complained.

"But we _are_ all Guardians. We all care about the children; we have that in common, at least," North pointed out. "Sandy is right. We will be a better team."

"So we should just…talk? Let conversation flow naturally?" Tooth suggested.

"Yes! Let us flow," North agreed enthusiastically.

Sandy grinned in anticipation. This had the makings of an interesting night.

* * *

While the Guardians were having their conversation at North's headquarters, Jack was busy flying from Denmark, where he had spread snow, to Privet Drive. As the Wind carried him over the North Sea, Jack wondered how Harry was coping with his relatives. Though the four-year-old didn't really talk about his treatment at the hands of the Dursleys, and though Jack didn't know much about human interaction, Jack _did_ know that a cupboard was _not_ a proper place for a child to sleep. Harry had said that the Dursleys didn't hit him, but Jack was certain that there was psychological abuse going on. His relatives called him a 'freak.' Jack was at a loss as to how to help his young friend. Eventually, Jack resolved to simply visit Harry whenever he could, and teach the young boy that he was important, not a freak. Harry was Jack's first Believer, but he was also a precocious, loveable little boy. Jack would make sure Harry grew up protected and loved.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **To everyone who has read, followed, favourited, and/or reviewed: thank you so much! I've finished exams for the summer, so I hope to get on a more regular updating schedule. I'm sorry it took so long for you to get this chapter; I really appreciate your patience.**


	6. Guessing the Truth

Seven-year-old Harry had been banished to the outdoors again, but he didn't particularly mind. He looked up at the sky with a grin. The first snowflakes of the year were softly cascading down to nestle in his unruly mop of hair.

"Hi, Jack!" he exclaimed excitedly, whirling around to face the immortal who'd been attempting to sneak up behind him.

"Hey, Snowflake," Jack greeted. "How did you know I was there?"

"I heard the Wind shift."

Jack groaned good-naturedly. "Sometimes, I think the Wind likes you better than me; I can never sneak up on you."

Harry grinned unrepentantly. "How was winter in the rest of the world?"

"As snowy and fun as I could get away with."

Jack was pleased. In the three years since he'd met Harry, he had watched the child grow from a lonely, terrified toddler into a cheerful, mischievous boy. Sandy took care to watch Harry when Jack had to be in the other hemisphere, and the two immortals had become great friends not just with Harry, but with each other as well.

"Look what Sandy taught me to do while you were away!" Harry exclaimed. He held out his hands and furrowed his brow. After a few moments of intense concentration, a swirling puff of sparkling golden sand erupted from Harry's palms.

"Whoa!" Jack gasped. "How can you do that?"

Harry grinned. "Sandy says it's not _really_ Dreamsand; it just _looks_ like it is. He says I'm special, even among my kind, for being able to imitate it. I asked him what 'my kind' means, but he told me if I don't know already, he's not supposed to tell me. But it's pretty cool, right?"

"It's _very_ cool, Snowflake," Jack agreed. I don't know what he means either. I wonder…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

"You wonder what?" Harry asked.

"Well, you're able to imitate Sandy's power. You can't make working Dreamsand, but maybe that's because Sandy's a guardian. I wonder if you can learn how to make snow like me. It can't be too difficult to learn if you already know how to do _that_."

Harry looked at Jack wide-eyed. "Do you really think so? The first time I made the sand was an accident, but Sandy taught me how to do it on purpose. I've never made snow accidently before."

"You're clever; I'm sure we can figure it out."

"You mean, you'll teach me?" Harry was ecstatic.

"Of course!" Jack said immediately. "I bet we can have you making snowballs and frost in a week!"

"You really think so?" Harry asked hopefully. "It took me a month to learn the sand."

"Definitely," Jack said.

* * *

True to his confident prediction, Jack succeeded in teaching Harry how to make small bursts of snow emerge from his palms in six and a half days.

"I knew you could do it, Snowflake!" Jack enthused.

"This is so cool," Harry grinned. "I wonder what other sorts of things I can do. I mean, I accidently turned my teacher's wig blue a few months ago, but I didn't do that on purpose. And I got in a lot of trouble for it…but if I figure out how to do smaller things, maybe Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia won't notice, and I won't be punished."

"You…turned your teacher's wig blue?"

Harry looked down immediately. "Was that bad? I didn't mean to. Aunt Petunia said it was my freakishness that did it."

"You are _not_ a freak, Snowflake!" Jack exclaimed, aghast. He had been telling Harry for years that he wasn't a freak, but it seemed the Dursleys' indoctrination was persistent. "I don't know how you turned your teacher's wig a different colour, but it's not freaky; it's brilliant. And you've learned to control sand and snow, which is nothing short of incredible."

"You really think so?" Harry asked earnestly.

"Absolutely. It's like magic or something."

Both boys paused and stared at each other.

"…Jack?"

"Yes, Snowflake?"

"Do you think that, maybe, I might have…magic?" Harry stammered. "Do you think that's why I can do these things?"

Jack frowned in concentration. "It might be possible, Snowflake. I've never heard of a non-immortal having magical powers, but I haven't been around for as long as the guardians and some of the other spirits. Sandy would probably know more."

Harry lit up in excitement. "Do you think being magic might be the thing that if I didn't know about, he couldn't tell me? You know, the 'my kind' thing?"

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "That actually makes a lot of sense. We can ask him in a few hours when he shows up. At the very least, he can probably confirm or deny, even if he can't give any details."

Harry nodded in agreement. "It would be nice to know for sure why I can do things."

"I agree. And while we wait for Sandy to get here…" Jack trailed off and raised his eyebrows with a grin.

"Snowball fight?"

"Snowball fight."

* * *

When Sandy arrived three hours later, he found two giggling, snow-soaked boys. They both caught sight of him and turned to face him with joy.

"Hi, Sandy!" Harry chirped. "I was finally able to make snow today like Jack's been teaching me. We think I have magic. Jack says he doesn't know if it's possible for me to have magic, but he said you might know. So do I? Is that what you couldn't tell me? Is that why I can do weird things?"

Sandy drifted down to stand in the ground in front of Harry. He nodded, a broad smile stretching across his face. He formed a pointed hat and wand out of sand, and gestured towards Harry, making a lightning bolt.

"I'm…I'm a wizard?" Harry gasped. "Is that what you mean?"

Sandy nodded, beaming.

Jack was amazed. "Why couldn't you tell him before? Are there more wizards? Some sort of rule system about telling people?"

"And how can I be a wizard?" Harry interjected. "Were my parents wizards? Aunt Petunia says they were drunks who died in a car crash, but were they really –"

Sandy held his hands up in a _slow down_ gesture. Then he started making symbols and figures above his head. _There are many wizards around the world. There are rules about telling people who don't already know about the society. You will attend a school of magic when you are eleven years old...Harry, your parents were indeed wizards, and they were not drunkards, nor did they perish in a car crash._

Harry and Jack were quiet for a moment, absorbing the information Sandy had just given them.

"If they didn't die in a car crash, how did they die?" Harry asked softly. Jack squeezed Harry's shoulder in reassurance.

Sandy shook his head regretfully and used sand to spell out words above his head. _They died protecting you from an evil wizard. I cannot give you details, for I do not know any more. They loved you a great deal; that much I do know._

Harry swallowed. "Thank you, Sandy. I'm glad to know about my mum and dad. And about magic."

Sandy gave Harry a hug. _I will answer any questions I can in the future_ , he indicated with symbols.

"Thanks." Harry allowed himself a small smile.

Jack stepped forward, realizing suddenly how dark the sky had become. "I should be getting you back to your relatives, Snowflake. It's getting late. We can figure out more about magic tomorrow, okay?"

Harry sighed, but he knew Jack was correct. "Okay, Jack. Goodnight, Sandy. Have fun with the Dreamsand."

Sandy gave Harry a playful salute and waved as the small child and the immortal winter spirit trudged through the neighbourhood back towards 4 Privet Drive.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Once again, I am sincerely sorry for the long wait. At this point, I believe it is safe to say that updates will be sporadic, though I do guarantee that this story will be completed, even if it ends up taking a long time. Thank you to everyone who has continued to read this story!**


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